This is a strange week in Scruggsland. The scrugglet that is normally the one that is active and healthy was brought down by strep. It is different staying home with a weak with fever boy, instead of a frustrated girl in pain. He is a loving boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and is always active, except for today.
He is always so strong and helpful that I worry that he has too much weight on his shoulders. I worry that he doesn’t get enough attention.
I worry that his need to make sure his voice is heard will continue to get him in trouble at school. I worry that he’ll realize what I already know–that his kindergarten teacher doesn’t love him like he loves her. Twice I’ve witnessed her annoyance with him the two times (the only two times) I’ve shown up unexpectedly to drop forgotten items off.
I worry that he worries too much about his Daddy–but he doesn’t realize it.
I worry that he will always hand over anything his sister wants.
I worry that I won’t be able to teach him how to channel his frenetic energy without losing a vital part of his personality.
I worry that he won’t tell me what is worrying him.
This morning I asked him why he doesn’t show his teeth when he smiles for pictures and his response was surprising. He said he doesn’t like to smile with his teeth because then the holes in his cheeks get real deep and other people don’t have them.
I worry that he won’t recognize everything that makes him special.
And I know my Wywy gets his worrying from me.
Motherhood is hard.
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